


Scenes from an Embassy

by astronomylady



Series: Pride and Vor-Prejudice [4]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Future Fic, Multi, Slice of Life, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 11:51:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18468379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronomylady/pseuds/astronomylady
Summary: A sequel to 'An Ideal Husband' set in the future-fic AU about Ivan, Tej, Byerly and their two children.Five little shorts illustrating Vorpatril domestic life on Zoave Twilight, one for each family member.





	Scenes from an Embassy

**Author's Note:**

> This is for zoya1416 who convinced me there was more to write. You wanted husband snark, which I couldn’t quite manage, but I hope this will do.

 

Ivan smiled at the latest little pottery figure his daughter had given him. Both fathers gave genuine praise for her work; the artistic eye was there and the improvement in skill over the last year was very clear. Moira was talented at several arts—not unexpected given her heritage— the surprise was that pottery was overtaking ballet as her favourite. Of course, it could all change tomorrow, that was the delight of young children. However, Moira loved manipulating clay, claiming she adored the silky feel of slip against her fingertips. Face packs and mineral-clay bath treatments with Mama Tej at the day-spa were just as popular. Clearly Moira had inherited a lot of Rish’s touch sensitivity, even if her other gifts were still undetermined.

 

Ivan grinned and began his next missive to Dono. The most fabulous town clown in all of Vorbarr Sultana, and what did his daughter enjoy? —mud.

 

* * *

 

“ …. I know By, and I agree with you, but does it have to be that precise _shade_ of lime green?”

Padma sighed. Yet another squabble about clothes. All of his parents had excellent taste, everyone said so, but Dada Byerly’s magpie love for the bright patterns available on Zoave Twilight sometimes got the better of his respect for Mama’s colour sensitivity. Much fussing ensued. Padma couldn’t see the point really. A coat was supposed to keep the rain off, and the colour did nothing to help that job, so what did it matter? Mama and Dada Byerly both dismissed this logic, insisting he own a number of coats; nor could they always agree on which he should wear, even though obviously, he couldn’t wear two coats at the same time!

 His Da eyed him sympathetically and nodded toward the door. Leaving behind both the disputed coats, father and son sneaked out to the embassy’s back garden and played crossball until they were thoroughly wet and muddy. The horrified look on both Mama and Dada’s faces was priceless, especially when Da quite reasonably pointed out, “Put the coat on the boy _first_. Argue about the colour later.”

 

* * *

 

Dammit! Agent Ritkov swore as he picked up the signal from Lord Vorpatril’s wrist comm coming from a nearby public waste bin. Despite his unmissably bright clothes, Byerly Vorpatril had yet again managed to vanish on the street. A man burdened with two young children shouldn’t be able to do that! The Vorpatril kids called the drill 'Evade the Cetagandan', agent Ritkov called it 'a three hour pain-in-the-ass, plus another blistering from his boss.' Giving up on on tracking his targets, he moved swiftly to the agreed rendezvous point at the ice-cream shop. Perhaps an ambush might work instead. Nyet, nothing. An hour later, nothing. Twenty five minutes past the deadline, he broke cover and made an emergency call to the Chief–only to freeze with a knife at his throat. Lord Vorpatril’s annoying High-Vor drawl sounded in his ear “And that is why you should contact your back-up before you leave your vantage point, not after.”

The knife withdrawn, the Vor bastard smirked like a loon, offering tips to the two children on increasing their observational awareness and congratulating them on how well they varied their walking style. A workman’s cap and dark coat had materialised from somewhere. Padma was now shorter than Moira, and was wearing a girl’s dress covered in unicorn sparkles.

Ritkov no longer cared about his boss. The two bottles of vodka he’d been saving were being consumed tonight.

 

* * *

 

Byerly watched as Moira cuddled closer on Da Ivan’s knee, her eyes wide as she listened to the story of Baba Yaga. He’d expected Moira to rapidly fall for her new Da and had worried for his own reaction. However, the kernels of jealousy were squeezed out by sheer relief that Moira had a proper male role model to look up to. Ivan (Ivan-you-idiot, frible of the Vorpatrils, block of the High Vor), couldn’t plot his way out of a wet paper bag, but he was a _fantastic_ father. He scheduled family time for all the parents in the Embassy, high and low. He played along with childish imaginings. He mopped tears and endured whining with a patient firmness that By was just too erratic to match. When asked, Ivan just shrugged, “Lots of early practice. I grew up protecting Miles from himself.”

Ivan was everything that Vorrutyers weren’t and By was grateful for it every day. Mind you, during working hours, By sometimes wanted to strangle him. Hostage negotiation was a silent auction, so yes, random bribes were absolutely worth the expense, despite the bookkeeping problems. No, you do not report the real name of your bribee. Nor do body-disposal locations appear on any report either, if Imp-Sec wants the corpse, they’ll ask you to retrieve it.

Sometimes, when he was topside, By would shut himself in a space-station cabin with an Ivan holo and spend an hour venting catty sarcasms at it.  Spleen was his coping mechanism, but his spouses were never again going to hear it in person. It was the price for kindness and Ivan was teaching him how to pay it.

 

* * *

 

Now there were three of them, Tej had discovered an unexpected voyeuristic streak in herself. She could never share Ivan casually with strangers, but By was her sister’s legacy and loved her man as fiercely as she did. He was firmly under her thumb now and could be trusted to respect her wishes.

Tonight, Ivan was knelt on the bed, his hands tied in front while Byerly embraced him from behind. Tej danced for her man, rubbing a piece of silk over her breasts in time to the music, as she gave instructions to her co-husband. “tickle harder on his belly while you nibble his neck.” Ivan watched her, By watched him and Tej watched them both. She adored the fine jerks of their muscles and the flushing colour contrasts in their skin as they became aroused.

It had a been a tense situation topside today, and a close call for both her men. Everyone should enjoy a proper welcome home.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
